


How Did This Become My Life?

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A blue box shows up in the kitchen of the Avengers Tower. Exploiting her concern for her new, Tony-free coffee pot, Coulson sends Natasha to check it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Did This Become My Life?

**Author's Note:**

> Look I'm alive and I even wrote stuff.

“There’s been a situation,” Coulson says.

It’s Monday, and Natasha has decided Coulson doesn’t get enough variety in his life. Currently she’s shaking things up by being as vapid, insipid, and bent on flattering her way out of every last piece of paperwork the remnants of SHIELD seemed determined to bury her in as humanly possible. “Oh no, sir. Really?” she asks, fluttering eyelashes heavy with mascara. 

He gives her an unimpressed look. “Knock it off, Romanoff. This is serious.”

“Oh of course, sir. Right away. I’ve very sorry. It’s just that, well,” here Natasha worries at her bottom lip, “The last situation was Agent Barton reading on the internet that dogs shouldn’t have tomatoes or tomato products and taking Pizza Dog to the vet.”

“During the middle of an attack on our planet,” Coulson reminds her, allowing himself to be drawn into a conversation. 

“He was so worried though, sir,” Natasha beams. “How much he loves that dog is absolutely adorable. And tomatoes aren’t even all that bad for dogs, at least not the ones on pizza. He just wanted to be sure.”

“Romanoff,” Coulson sighs, “There is a possible hostile in the middle of your kitchen right now, surrounded by your highly dangerous and fairly unstable colleagues. I don’t need to remind you that they’re all heavily armed and explosions would be detrimental to the new, Stark-tech free coffee maker you thought I wouldn’t notice in your last expense report.”

“I’ll take care of it, sir,” she sighs. “You don’t know what I do for you.”

He flips her retreating back off when she climbs out his window.

She arrives in the kitchen of Stark Tower only minutes later. The Avengers and their strays, as she calls them, are gathered around a blue box. Pizza Dog glances at her and wags his tail. Clint glances at her and smiles. Barnes pokes the box with an alarmingly large knife for someone that isn’t supposed to be near weapons. Natasha rubs her temples. “Alright, children,” she says. “Who wants to show and tell? And, more importantly, how did this become my life?”

“Shit happens,” Stark shrugs. “Christ, our lives are weird, and the box hasn’t blown up yet so I’d really like to make myself lunch and get back to work.”

“It is not of this world,” Thor intones. 

Jane, from her vantage point on Thor’s shoulder, nods vigorously. “It didn’t use the Bifrost and it definitely didn’t come from anywhere on Earth. I can’t imagine what type of technology it would take to essentially teleport, let alone the amount of power. Also it appears to be made of wood which would in no way—”

Darcy Lewis holds up a hand. “Jane, the nice lady really doesn’t want to know all of that right now. She cares whether it’s a threat.”

“Sorry,” Jane smiles sheepishly. “It’s just—”

Darcy raises her hand again. “Threat or no?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jane says. 

They’re interrupted by a crunch. Everyone turns to look at Bruce. He continues chewing. In his hand is a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich. He stares back at them flatly. Before anyone can say anything and it turns into an argument, the door to the blue box smashes open. “What,” the man who emerges demands, “Is that amazing smell?”

He proceeds to ignore them, including Barnes and his very large knife, in favor of following his nose straight to Bruce. He laughs. “You humans,” he proclaims, clapping Bruce on the shoulder, “Never cease to amaze me. You’re petty and violent, but the food. My God, the food!”

Natasha sighs. “Sir, if you wouldn’t mind allowing me to search you?”

His wide brown eyes lock onto her. “Not at all, little dancer,” he smiles and raises his arms out to either side of himself. 

Natasha pirouettes, bows with a flourish, and pats him down. She finds nothing that immediately screams weapon. He’s wearing a tie and has shoelaces, but strangling someone is not something one usually attempts when attacking New York City as a whole. There’s a strange device in his coat pocket, but it doesn’t appear to have a point or an edge so she’s not particularly concerned. “What is it?” she asks, holding it up for inspection.

“A sonic screwdriver,” he says, without any visible tells. 

Stark makes grabby hands. Natasha ignores him. “Can it kill people?”

“It’s primarily a tool,” the man tells her.

“I’ve killed men with screwdrivers before,” she informs him.

“Multiple men?” he asks, frowning, “On multiple occasions? Fascinating.”

“Actually it’s a bit of a mess,” Natasha says.

“I can see how that might be,” he shoots her a grin. “However, I come in peace. I mean Earth no harm. No one should require stabbing.”

Barnes looks like he wants to disagree, but Steve steps on his foot. Pizza Dog breaks the ensuing awkward tension be bounding forward to shove his nose in the stranger’s crotch. The man crouches to say hi. “Well, who’s this handsome boy?” he asks.

Clint is won over immediately, though he doesn’t have a tail to wag and he manages to refrain from invading the stranger’s personal space. Natasha eyes the rest of the people in the room. What’s good enough for Pizza Dog is, apparently, good enough for them. Stark is dismantling her coffee pot and Steve is trying to talk Barnes into handing the knife over. Everyone else is making themselves lunch. “Can we help you with anything?” she asks the man.

“I wanted to meet you and your team,” he tells her. “I’m the Doctor.”

“The one MI6 and Torchwood complain about?” Natasha raises her eyebrows.

He does the finger gun snap thing. “The one and only.”

“God help us,” she says, but it comes out amused.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make this a whole thing, but I am actually being crushed under the weight of schoolwork. I have two math classes and three AP classes this semester and the SAT is looming large and I really need an ibuprofen, so don't be optimistic about this ever getting continued.


End file.
